Dying Light
by Burning-Petals
Summary: "There was a boy crying in a dark room. A room that no one knows where but want to know. A room many people come and go through, but this boy was just sitting in the middle of, crying over how life lied to him." one-shot Tsukoppi kinda songfic


**Just a one-shot from my brain to your screen. This is loosely based off Our Father Is Missing by From Indian Lakes, an awesome band I found a few weeks ago at a concert. I mainly just like connecting my stories with songs, it makes me happy.**

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There was a boy crying, in a dark room. A room that no one knows where but want to know. A room many people come and go through, but this boy was just sitting in the middle of, crying over how life lied to him.

How movies gave him nothing but lies. How books gave him nothing but false relief. How tv shows gave him nothing but a dead end. They all lied to him.

This little raven cried to have his happy ending, the ones movies told him everyone got. This raven cried for his love story, the one books told him was waiting to start. This raven cried for his everlasting, the one tv shows told him would happen.

The crying boy was called Roppi. A nickname given to him by his parents. Ordinary people nothing special, they worked like everyone, paid bills, cooked food, took care of him. It was a normal life, as normal as any life really.

As time went on, Roppi grew up, learned many things along the way. Which parent to go to for what he wanted, how to sneak junk food into his room, which book genre he preferred, and many other things everyone learns over time.

Roppi wasn't a very social child, he talked when spoken to and had no problem telling people what he thought. He made the friends he needed and enough to pass by unnoticed.

More time passed and some of his friends moved on as did Roppi, making others along the way. A normal process of life.

Arguments passed between him and his parents, a thing everyone of his age did. Wanting to be independent but not quiet being able to reach that independence alone.

Then Roppi meet a blonde boy, a strange blonde at that. He wore chunky glasses and was quite tall, an awkward tall that his two left feet couldn't yet handle. Roppi befriended this blonde when no one wanted to for he stuttered when he talked. A simple flaw over looked by the small raven.

The clock flew by fast between the two, and before either knew what hit them, they were confronted with a challenge. A challenge new to both, one of feelings. Whether one liked the other or not. It started with doubts, and not wanting to betray a friendship, with flittering fingers, small hints, secrets spilled and running away did they pass the challenge.

There wasn't much a change from times before, hanging out and enjoying each other's presence. Unnoticed by ones not told, adored by ones who were.

Though the raven had a secret, a secret best told to no one, or so he thought. A secret of thoughts not wanted, of dark days and feelings, of uneasiness and hardships. A secret best told to loved ones.

Life went on as life does, giving its ups and its downs. The raven was content with his life, with his parents, his friends, and his blonde.

Though as life seemed as best as could be, his secret grew as if feeding off his happiness. Dark thoughts turned black and bleak, hope slowly diminished along with happiness. The raven's only light soon became the boy with blonde hair.

The small raven went to the roof top screaming out dreams that would go undone and unsaid. He tried to think only of things he could change instead of the unchangeable, of his blonde light.

As time was thrown out the window, the raven became friendly with a razor. The little raven had an itch to show on his skin his horror, the bad dreams that kept him up late at night with his new best friend. And like every itch, it feels good only for a while until the burning sensation to itch again comes back. If only he could stop, just as he started.

Keeping his secret was breathing, happened naturally, though drowning was more accurate. Each breath he took the more it flooded his lungs. Soon this little raven will burst.

And burst he did, unexpected to him and his blonde light. After the two had a moment of all time closeness. When wondering feather fingers stumbled across bony hips to find scaring from the raven's best friend.

A tight hold and stuttering words of comfort was all the raven got. Not words of rejection, disgust, judgement, or misunderstanding, the raven just got what he needed. Which he didn't even know what.

That should of been it, this little raven's happy ending, his love story, and his everlasting. But life doesn't end suddenly at times when one is happiest. It continues, whether you want that moment to end, whether you want to continue or not. Life just doesn't care what you want.

Despite insisting words, the raven's secret remained just that. His blonde light never told, no matter how much he wanted to, no matter how much he should of, no matter how much he knew it was right. The blonde did what his raven begged, not wanting to upset his little raven more than he already was, the blonde kept the secret.

Good days passed, bad days passed, even worse days passed, it all went along. The raven tried to tell his blonde light what he was going through, what he felt and how he was doing, but that seemed a bother. Putting all this on his blonde light wasn't what he needed. What he needed was to be better, what he needed was his best friend.

Time passed per usual and the raven was getting worse, only his blonde light could tell but unable to help. The blonde tried to talk to his raven, to figure out what could make him feel better, what would keep his raven happy. A tight hold was his raven's response, one like when the blonde first found out. One that spilled with love and comfort, that held together the small sanity still with his raven. If that was all the blonde could do to help his raven, he'd keep doing it until there was nothin left of him.

If only that was the true answer, if only that truly did keep his raven in one piece. If only the blonde was there when his raven needed him most. When the monsters in the raven were raging, eating away at his being.

On that night all the raven had was his best friend, the one that helped itch every scratch on his pale body. The deadly friend that was the start to his end. The raven followed his ritual, in the bathroom carving his darkest desires on every inch of skin able to be covered. Slowly each desire became deeper, more of his rich blood oozed out, trailing down.

With overwhelming feelings the raven slid down, leaning on a tub, basking in the coldness taking over. The raven didn't think of his parents, his friends, his life, nor his blonde light. All that was left to fill his mind was drowsiness. The only thing this raven wanted was to sleep, but in return it took him.

Now back to this little raven crying in the middle of a dark room. Crying for that small shred of light to come back. To hold him with all his might, stuttering words they barely knew the meaning of.

That wouldn't happen though, he knew that. Life wasn't that forgiving, that gracious. Head cleared he was stuck in his darkness forever unable to see his blonde light again. For that he cried, cried for his parents, his friends, his life.

The raven could see his parents unraveling, slowly falling apart for what he done. And over time he even saw them cope, slowly but surely they would make it.

The raven's friends were no different, sticking together and some splitting apart. The crying never stopped, some would randomly break down, and others kept it well hidden. In the end, they would make it out just as well.

Now what this little raven couldn't handle himself was his blonde light. Watching as he lived his life, how he broke, pieces falling but unlike the rest, couldn't manage to pick them up again. Just as if when the raven was there with him, he'd pick up one fallen object just to drop all the rest.

Chunky glasses weren't able to hide those sad eyes, no matter how high up he hiked his scarf tear stained cheeks still remained, trembling hands got worse, and a gloom fell. The raven screamed, thrashed and cried, for he saw the monster creeping inside his blonde light.

The little raven cried for his blonde light, the one slowly going out. He saw the signs and had no way to stop the road ahead. All the raven could do was go on knowing he was the one to ruin his only good thing.


End file.
